


Full Moons and Bitemarks

by RectifiedPear



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (Archie Comic), Sonic the Hedgehog (Video Games), Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Claiming Bites, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Full Moon, Gay Sex, Kissing, Knotting, Late at Night, Lube, M/M, Marking, Multiple Orgasms, Prepping, References to Knotting, Self-Lubrication, Showers, Werewolf Biology, Werewolf Bites, Werewolf Reveal, Wolf Anatomy, knots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-08-02 16:10:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 5,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16308443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RectifiedPear/pseuds/RectifiedPear
Summary: It's funny how a full moon night can change your whole world.(This is a story with varying length chapters, a bunch of drabbles, and a lot of werewolf smut.)





	1. Drabble: More Wolfjob

Scourge found himself sweating. Pinned beneath the hedgehog was bad enough, but this wasn't a hedgehog. “Blue, you're looking hairier. Skipped haircuts lately?” The beast growled at him. “Not going to reply?” He felt a shudder go down his spine. The idea to close his legs would apply, but Scourge couldn't deny he felt curious. . .

“You look happy to see me downstairs, but upstairs, bud, you look ready to bite my head off.” He kicked his legs, tried to push himself back. Shoulders pressing into blue-furred arms, Scourge inhaled, hands shaking.

“I'm gonna be sore in the morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leaving it vague if there's an established relationship, a bet gone wrong, etc. This isn't rape, but could be if you, the reader, desired it to be. It's dubious more than anything, but hey, whatever the reader reads it as.


	2. Twice Bitten by a Werehog

Scourge groaned beneath the mass of blue which snapped its jaws with every grunt and wet thrust. The werehog wore him out. Day after day it had been a normal time. He'd ignore Sonic, and then wait for the moon to get ripe and full. Tonight it had, and he'd stepped into Sonic's path, and then he'd jabbed and baited him until the clouds had parted and the male had his jaw clenched. A beam of moonlight had cast down, and lit up the male's face.

Those green eyes upon him had narrowed, suspicions and swears slipping off his lips and becoming guttural. Words ceased to sound themselves, becoming grumbled noises. It was like an angry wolf. He noted this with shudder as those teeth were still bared at him. Scourge had shed his jacket, utilized it like a matador's cloth, and baited the male into an alley. He'd taken care to prepare himself this round. Those eyes were all over him.

He loved it.

They ran up and down his form. He pondered if each time was a new time for the werehog, while he seemed to almost recognize the green-furred hedgehog, there were glances thrown sideways at him that filled him with doubt.

Did this Sonic remember him?

Worse. Did it remember 'hurting' him last time?

The bite upon his neck was throbbing, a sloppy mess of a bite that trailed onto his shoulder and was relatively well hidden by green fur and fading now, but the bruising had lingered. It was deep and worse than any hickey he had ever felt from any dame.

Again. He loved it.

A deep inhale came from the beast, its mouth inches from the unbitten side of his neck. Did it intend to mark him twice? Another shiver ran along his form. Did he mind that?

He didn't really think he did.

“Easy, Blue.” He spoke, voice slipping into a much less cocky asshole tone than it had been prior. He did not want this beast of a hedgehog mad at him. He'd sooner piss off Shadow and all of G.U.N. No, so he had to tread carefully. “You're like an animal. Does that mean things animals do make more sense to you?”

No response, he hadn't planned on any. The being merely inhaled his scent so hard his fur swayed in the wind of Sonic's breath. It was so simple, yet so intimidating.

Like an animal, he repeated in his head,

Scourge turned, very slowly, back to the large hairy male, he felt down, fingers touching a thick blanket laid against pillows and the softest stuff he could find. They buried themselves as he brought his front down, jacket clasped as he circled each arm around a pillow. His rear raised up, Scourge looked up with wide blue eyes. Sonic had not moved. He took a shaky breath, raised his tail, and locked his legs.

The glint in those eyes was evident.

Scourge's legs did not stay locked, the weight of two paws and the rest of the werehog had his knees buckling and hitting blankets and pillows that barely stopped an ache he hadn't braced for as flesh and bone was brought down hard. “E-easy Bl-ooh!”

Had he not been face down with his knees holding his back raised, he would have been brought down harder, Sonic's tip, already damp with dripping pre, scored itself across the globe of Scourge's ass, dampening fur and wrecking his speech before, with a few more thrusts, he found the lube-slickened hole and buried himself into it.

“Ohhh...” He arched his back, eyes rolling into his head. “Yes. Blue. Get it all out of your system.” He could barely manage even those few words, each thrust shook him. It felt as though he was slick enough to compensate, but had not done enough stretching. His body protested the intrusion, even as he dripped needily into his own shaking hand which made to jerk himself off in tune with each thrust.

Pain lanced down his body as hot liquid hit his throat and chest, blood gushing from the bite left so fast, Scourge could barely keep himself from climaxing. The pain had done nothing to his erection, only enhanced the experience, and now both sides of his throat throbbed. One hard and prominent, brought to the forefront of his mind, and the other in the background, a steady pulse of dull ache. It mingled with the feeling within him. He swore and arched, being taken rougher in that instance.  
The light of the moon bathed them as Scourge's mouth parted from a panting mess, into a smile. “ Yeah. Fuck me, just like an animal would, Blue.” A soft moan crippled his senses, huffed breath against one ear.

Scourge's hips bucked and he felt his orgasm overtake his mind, legs going slack and body held up only by two arms, they dangled lifelessly as his seed soaked the fabric and his hand. His body worked to clench and grip onto Sonic's length, which pounded on mercilessly. Scourge thought himself numb, mind whirling, it felt like five minutes had passed, then ten, when it felt as though twenty had slid by, he found himself orgasming prematurely just from how abused his prostate was.

"B-Blue. L-look, I... I need you to finish up, o-okay?" He was jelly, drooling into the pillow, his jacket bitten into in an effort to ground himself. Sonic came, but not before he was begging for the male to be done with him. Scourge's insides had never felt so full, his body throbbed and ached, his rear was hot and burning. "Whoa," and he couldn't complain much about any of it. One hand pressed to the still bleeding wound, he fell on his stomach, letting the weighty male murr and nuzzle him as his length slowly stopped being wedged into Scourge's ass.

"Wow, Blue." He panted. "Just. Wow." No more words came. He felt like he'd been choked, and the lack of air had him exhausted. _Me. Tuckered out from sex? Since when?_ he snorted, palms clenching into black fabric and pillow. Since now. The other part of his brain retorted.

He barely recognized that he was passing out. Seemed Sonic already had. _Oh well._ He'd woken up in worse places with worse people.


	3. Drabble: After a Full Moon

Scourge woke up to green eyes half-lidded and blue fur pressed tight to him. Cream hands rested against his sides. It took him awhile to process that Sonic was real, that it was morning, took less time for him to process. The stinging pain of sunlight upon him was noted, as he fumbled for his sunglasses. The male stirred, still looking out of it.

“Morning, little boy blue.”

“Ugh, Scourge?”

“Yep, that's my name.”

“What happened?”

Bluntness rolled off his tongue, “Well, we banged.”

Sonic's eyes went wide, his mouth fell open. “Really??”

“Mad?”

“No.”

“Good. Let's go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it from chapter two or from the first chapter in the timeline? Does it really matter? You decide.


	4. Drabble: So Big

Scourge arched into the throbbing knot that threatened to destroy more than just his senses. Sonic was a blend of musk and power, and, beneath him, knees against the hard stones, Scourge was a quivering mess.

Each thrust pushed him closer to a point he couldn't imagine, a point of two orgasms in one ride, the werehog's intentions were obvious, he wanted to get all the way in. He was taking his time.

“Fuck.” He groaned, hips rotating as he pushed back. “F-finish me already.”

Sonic moved, spurred on not by Scourge's words, but by how tightly he clenched.


	5. Lunatic

There had been many acts in Scourge's life that added up to him being deserving of the name “anti-Sonic” and “the King”. He stole, he killed, his ego rivaled the 'real' Sonic's and then blew up it was so much bigger. He'd been at the top, been at the bottom, been in jail, escaped jail. He'd done everything that wasn't beneath him, and that was few scant things. None of it topped his new life.

He'd suspected he'd hate it. Once would teach him. He'd take the werehog's abuse once and tap out. Instead he spent money on calenders, kept track of the news. A cloudy full moon meant Sonic might not change at all. He walked around with his boyfriend at night, both during the moon, and not. It was to get him used to it. Night time sex was orgasmic one way or another. But what Scourge lusted for was sheer masochism. The werehog's weight alone made him gasp, and the bruises the next morning were agony.

A fiery pain that burned him with each step, the kind of soreness no wank could ever give. He got hard to the idea, often. He found himself eyeing sex toys. Not a new thing for him, but few enticed him, the ones that did were bought. He was blessed to have a zealous lover. One uttered challenge and Sonic would be popping the cap on the lube. He'd groan with every attempt until his ass took it in, one hand on his dick.

But still.

It wasn't the real thing.

Sonic could fuck him with a thousand toys, and none of it would compare to the full meaty length plunging into parts of him he didn't know existed. Scourge's cock twitched at the very thought, and he released into his pumping hand. Still not good enough.

The days had ticked by, he was eager. He'd heard the moon caused insanity in some. “Lunacy” they called it. He knew now he was edging along the line a lunatic would tread. Sonic was asleep, a quick nap before they went out. It was sunset. He watched purples and blues vanish into orange and red. A sunset like blood and cheese melting began to fade away into darkness. 

He lost track of how long he'd been staring, he'd let Sonic oversleep. The moon's light on his face was welcomed. It swept past him and to the bed. Behind him, a sound like popcorn being eaten happened. A breath hissed along the hairs on his neck. Scourge let his jacket fall from his shoulders and pushed it aside. His hands gripped the window sill.

He'd been wanting this so long, his dick hung low, engorged with blood. The breathing ran down the nape of his neck, legs touching the outside of his own. His tail was pushed upward by Sonic's chest. Scourge held his breath, felt the length slide through his tight ring of muscles, and tried not to bite his tongue at the moan that flew from his mouth. The tightness in his chest peaked and then relaxed with each thrust.

He counted the stars, drummed his fingers, and moaned as Sonic's knot, feeling twenty degrees hotter than his length, bumped his ass. It was inviting, a treasure trove of pleasure. He'd be stuck on that length until the knot's swelling went down. He'd felt it before, it was amazing. A kind of union he could never feel with anyone else.

It pushed again, and he pushed back, hips raised. To let Sonic knot him would end the ride, so he'd tighten up, wait until the right moment. His spine took a hard thrust and protested, but his dick begged for more. One hand gripped it hard enough to bruise. “Ah!” He felt so enthralled, the motion of Sonic's hand, fingers tracing over the head of his length and thumbing away pre-cum. “Tha-that's it. Blue, fuck me harder.” 

The knot slapping his ass in tune with those luscious blue balls had him coming all over his chest, body seizing up too late as the knot slipped in and rocked his world. He was so full, legs splayed and held now by firm hands. His world spun. “This.” He choked out, mouth captured in a kiss he couldn't handle. “N-never gets old!”


	6. Sun up

The knot within him didn't go down in size until the moon began to fade. The clouds had not covered it once, and Scourge had found himself impaled and prodded many times, with a fullness he could never imagine achieving again, yet knew would arrive in a month. The feeling of the werehog atop him, drooling in his sleep, going down in size allowed him the time to wiggle free and breathe. 

Being that full took a lot out of him, and he could not find his legs, even as the male stirred behind him. “Easy, blue.” He laughed, fingers wrapping around his jacket. “If you feel half of what I feel, you won't be getting up.”

“Feel hungover.”

“Hung is right.”

Sonic, bleary-eyed and barely managing to sit, looked his way. The laughter must have been contagious because he joined in. Hands occupied with finding his gloves and sliding them on, he locked eye contact with Scourge before jerking his head to the side. “You could use a shower.”

“That hero talk for I'm covered in your baby batter, blue boy?”

Sonic's emerald eyes shot down to his own chest and groin before he gave a hearty shrug. “I could too. You're in no condition to stand. Would you like to be carried?” He faked a curtsy and moved his hands to gesture to the bathroom. “Milady?”

Scourge's brow furrowed in annoyance before he gawped at the blue blur. His jaw set squarely, he scowled. “You did not just say that.”

“To the powder room, _darling_?”

The remaining strength was put into standing up. With legs of jello, Scourge took a swing and toppled. The heat in his face only intensified as strong arms wrapped around his waste and he was lifted. “Jerk.”

“We've been doing this for months, you deserve some aftercare. You can't abuse yourself like this.”

He hated that Sonic was such a 'good boy', each time he came to he'd tend to scourge and treat him so nicely that the green hedgehog wanted to gag. What was worse was the feeling of being bent over as his lover and rival did the aftercare. A single bit of blood meant he'd get nursed to health. The feeling of Sonic applying anything to his ass was something sexual in itself, and numbing gels ruined the pleasure of those fingers milking his tight hole. Scourge's crotch twitched, but refused to rise. 

The sound of the shower brought him out of his thoughts before the water itself did. Looking like he was five and not a legal adult, Scourge huffed as his lover stepped in and began to bathe them both. The pleasure of Sonic's hands upon his body were a minor blessing, and the warm water trailing from his chest down to pool between his legs soothed some of the ache. 

“You're more of a pouter than Shadow is, you know that?” Sonic asked, rubbing soap into both their fur, then shampoo. The massage loosened him up. He nearly purred. “See, smile more.”

“Shut up, we're not a real couple, put away the flowery shampoos already.”

“You sure?” Scourge smelled chocolate as Sonic dripped the conditioner down his quills. “Because this is a lot of sex and snuggling for 'not a real couple', almost seems like the amount a 'real couple' would have if you ask me.” 

“Whatever.” His voice rose in pitch as an ear was nipped and he groaned into the massage upon his temples. “Just hurry it up.”

“You mean go faster?” 

Scourge could feel the grin going from cheek to cheek without looking behind himself. He huffed once more and nodded. “Yes.”

“You know me, I'm all about speed.”

 

The bed was a welcome mat for Scourge, smelling of cheap laundry detergent every hotel used, and yielding like it had been abused for ten years prior. He sank into it, and breathed in and out while his lover began making sure he was fine.

“You can stop doing this any day, blue.”

“You can stop pushing your limits with a werehog any day, green bean.”

Flushed with heat, and enticed by the fingers spreading him open, Scourge grunted whatever retort he had into the sheets.


	7. Aftercare or Afterpleasure?

Scourge wanted to sass the blue blur, trouble with that was, sassing someone who had their fingers inside of him was not a wise move. He was reckless, stupidly so to most, but he was not an outright fool. He arched into each touch and groaned, hips rolling and pumping down upon the fingers. He teeth bit down upon sheets to muffle the groans and collect the drool dripping from his open mouth.

“This is supposed to be treatment, Scourge.” He said, a note of amusement in his voice. “You're too red and sore for more.”

He knew that, yet the scissoring motion of those fingers created an urge for more. To take something more. He pushed back, and gasped as a third finger scissored into his rear and spread out. The friction was cut by the numbing gel, but he pumped his hips faster to compensate for that, grunting despite Sonic's questioning tone.

“You're getting me hard doing this.” His erection was long and prominent, a sight Scourge only had to tilt his head to spy peeking up from the hedgehog's thighs, like a mountain on the horizon. 

It was a temptation, and Scourge raised his tail, flicking it some. 

“You look like you won't walk for a week.”

He wiggled hips and tail more. With an ardor that caused Sonic to hiss as his free hand rubbed along his length. 

“Scourge, you'll be bedridden for the rest of the day.”

“Don't care, fuck me, blue.” He arched his back, legs spread for the dripping erection to dangle on display between his thighs. “I can't get enough of your dick.”

“How romantic.” 

“Everything about you drives me mad.” His shoulder throbbed as blood flowed, stirred by the motion of his body jarring the bite wounds. “I need more.”

“This sounds like a bad drug deal.” He pushed a fourth finger in, and listened to his rival-and-potential-lover yowl like a cat in heat and one feeble hand grip his length. “Tell me more,”

“What?”

He made a loud noise, feeling his better half twist his fingers within him and pound his prostate. “Ah! More!”

“Beg for it, Scourge.”

Humiliated, hot, on his knees, Scourge found himself doing just that. “More, more please!” Fingers thrust deep inside of him, impossibly deep. He gasped and cried, it was so filling. He was stuffed, and pumped full. The pain lingering from the night before was merging into the pleasure and pushing him closer and closer. He cried out, feeling each one splay out and rub his walls, caressing every inch they could.  
Scourge leaned forward so far his spine hurt. With a strangled gasp, he felt the fingers leave just to find one leg lifted, gripped tightly by Sonic, and his dick entering until blue balls slapped his green ass. 

He couldn't stop the shaking orgasm that ran through him, the gasp, the grinding of his teeth upon fabric as Sonic's name was muffled by clothe.


	8. Drabble: Doubt

He's left waiting for the full moon. Again. He hungers for it as much as Sonic's inner werehog does now. Every bleeding bite to his neck he receives is becoming another scar. He never knew he needed these scars. He breaths in deeply and finds closure in the rhythm of the hedgehog, it staves off the need for the werehog.

But only slightly. 

Scourge ponders if it's the fact he was bitten from the first night. If maybe something contaminated him. He never foresaw this life.

Moaning into the pillow, he can only hope he sees when this will end.


	9. Conscience

While Sonic was out, Scourge browsed through things at a local store. He was near a kinky corner. There were a lot of kinks, and a lot of things he had to consider. For some reason the hedgehog was now tentative about broaching certain subjects around Sonic. His chest felt heavy, fluffy. He felt light and nervous. The last week had been that, a mess of nervousness and lightness. Like whipped batter within his chest.

Would Sonic like the stuff Scourge liked? Had he even asked the hedgehog about his likes? He'd never considered it very much before now. He'd never really... thought about Sonic's feelings. _Weird._ He eyed food, memorizing things he didn't know and questioning if any of it would be to his tastes.

Chilli dogs and nachos were all the rage between them.

Had they even shared a meal?

Snacks and junk food were not a meal.

 _For a relationship, this feels bad._ He wasn't giving anything back. Scourge shook his head and snarled in annoyance. “Why should I? Who cares if I give back?!”

“Are you okay?”

He realized he was snapping at frozen food, door open. Eyes wide, he looked at someone, and shifted his gaze back. “Having relationship issues.”

“Oh.”

He snapped before they could offer. “It's nothing bad, I just don't know what I'm doing.” 

“There are books for that.” Someone whispered, he pressed his green ears flat against his head and though about it.

They were useful. Books. People were just a mess of problems and needs and whining. Everyone had things they cared about, everyone had a price. _Except Sonic._ Sonic was good to him, Sonic had been good to him for over a year, and then he'd found out his secret. 

_But it worked out._

Huffing, he grabbed some frozen food, the chill on his face was annoying. He threw it into the cart and carried on. Someone who was working there got waved at. “Excuse me, where's your books?” Scourge tried not to sneer or take a sarcastic tone. This place might not have what he needed. “Do you know where the nearest library is?”

The book isle isn't that bad. 

Scourge never knew reading could be a good thing, a _fun_ thing. He's only read textbooks and boring crap his Tails used to hand him. The type of briquette on how to be destructive that ruins all the fun in bashing things up and being destructive. He's trying to look tough and make up excuses for why he's in romance, and why he's picking through cheesy magazines talking about Rouge the bat and other people he knows mainly through Sonic.

There's all manner of things inside of them. Stuff about how every man wants kids(Scourge disagrees, but then thinks on it, and doesn't find it to be the most repulsive thing), lists of top ten ways to kiss a man(does it really matter how he kisses?), and more. He finds ten recipes for chili and all of them sound simple and good. He curses his memory, and refuses to buy these magazines, so he starts vandalizing them. Old habits don't die, they just become re-purposed as Scourge bends pages until they rip out. Folded into squares, he pockets them and continues onto the next page.

His pockets were heavy as he picked up a few books he'd liked the sound of and headed to check out. The idea to steal crossed his mind, but Scourge knew the mess would look unexplainable to anyone who knew him and they'd never buy it at face value.

As was, he was thrown weird looks and muttered this was all for a friend. He was assuming the looks were bore over the fact he was paying than what he was paying for. Least, that's what he hoped. Bagged, the books were carried “home”. He'd never gotten why they kept winding up in hotels with Sonic getting everything half off, or free. He assumed because his mug would get no discounts at all or the place under the eye of the law.

It had been a long while since Scourge had done anything to deserve that. _Old habits die hard._ He bit his lip and sighed. This was going to be a lot harder than he expected. Scourge and Sonic were neither speed readers, they bluffed or skimmed, but neither could read a book in the amounts of time often bragged or boasted to others.

It was one of the bigger lies Sonic ever said to people. One few besides Tail ever called out.

So, sitting down, Scourge got comfy, and began on page one of a book on sex positions and methods. A lot of it was science-talk. The boring kind of descriptions that lost his interest in a day, the rest was images and pictures. As he came upon chapters he pulled out folded squares and set out the magazine pages of differing sizes and texts.

The book continued into anatomy, how men worked, how females worked, erogenous zones, prostates and G-spots, again, Scourge knew almost all of this. Almost all. New things crept up on him, curious and shiny, he smiled with the feeling of reading forbidden scripture as he found angles he'd never tried. There was a reasoning here he could not think of with himself.

Answers to questions he could not find.

Scourge sank into a pace of reading and found time slip away. His face hurt as he smiled...

 

The sound of the cleaning crew pulled him from Chapter Ten, or Topic Ten, whatever it was to be called. The book lacked chapters in the writing sense and instead had varying lengths of subjects covered from vaginal to anal and to angles and positions. It was nerd-talk still, but Scourge found it was enjoyable now. He withdrew into the chair as they knocked, nodding to let them in. They were ignored, and so was he by them, as they cleaned the sheets and vacuumed. He hardly noticed them leaving a pile of plastic-wrapped cookies in their wake upon the nightstand when they left.


	10. Drabble: Growth?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter was updated, please read it first. It's over twice as long. Thank you in advance.

Scourge asks himself if this is all real, if these weird nagging doubts are real. 

If these weird stirrings inside himself are real.

Maybe he's sick. He's never read so much or smiled so much until Sonic and him began...

Is that how he should feel? Scourge frets with the pages of his book. He dog-ears loose leaf pages he ripped from magazines. Stolen pages. 

He feels warm, maybe it's a fever.

He opens a new topic in the book, one he skipped because it bore no appeal hours prior to now.

Maybe it can answer his worries.

Scourge hopes.


	11. Not Adding Up

Emotions are such foreign creatures. First Scourge feels hot, warm, then angry, annoyed, a tinge of fear comes in. He flickers between these. He can't place why or for what he feels these things. They're a mystery. He's been mad, he's been annoyed, but never at himself over feelings alone.

He's made many mistakes, been to prison many times, he has been arrested, escaped arrest, attempted war crimes, committed war crimes, and so many other things. He's witnessed a werewolf, he's kissed and screwed a werewolf, he's been tempting someone clearly leaving marks upon him and all but snapping him in half.

Yet all of that had been done with goals of self-gain involved. To profit, to get emeralds, to get off, to kill his enemies, to dodge consequences. Now it's for weirder things. He doesn't just want to take, he wants more, something he can't take so much as hold and hope to keep. 

In his life Scourge has accepted not everything can be stolen or forced. He's been snubbed and betrayed by many.

He hasn't been a clueless teenager in a long time, he's read up, learned, grown so much. He has been told many many times just how smart he is.

So why is this such a hard thing to figure out?


	12. Bad at Math

Why is he eating frozen food without thawing it? He kicks himself, barely preparing it before dropping it into the microwave, it turns about and he smells plastic wrap burning. For a moment he contemplates stealing the microwave when they get someplace better. 

Someplace _permanent?_ Could they even have that? Least, that's what Scourge thinks as he runs his fingers over books and rereads for what feels like fifty times now, and then he continues to do it more.

The silence becomes a pest, he turns the television on, eyes rapt upon words he struggles to pronounce, mouth moving to sound syllables out. He feels five, it's not entirely unfamiliar, often Sonic makes him feel ten not twice that. The tv meshes with the beeping of the microwave, it smells burnt.

Talk of Sonic pulls his attention forth, he watches him, a 'live' footage of him. Sonic is so beloved. On the screen he is their savior, their God, their superhero. The news reporter's voice is full of awe, like he's never reported on one of these situations. A simple fire, but Sonic is there, saving people. He brings the water. He's putting it out. Rescuing a trapped dog. The talk goes on, and on, and on, all they do is sing praise.

 _Would they if they knew where he rests his girth?_ They'd herald the hedgehog alright, as a traitor to them all. 

He bets they'd wish him dead, and try to excuse Sonic. Call it manipulation, brain washing. Clearly Sonic would be innocent, and him, a monster. Scourge was known for so much, if not for how he dressed and hats in public, he'd likely be outed everywhere. It had taken years to fade into an area of familiar, but not recognizable, and when he was known, he had a fifty-fifty chance now of earning only silence. People still knew of the things he did, old habits. Old blood. It flowed upon his hands. He was a monster. One that had not died yet.

Sonic had been the only one to approach him anymore, and that had gone ways neither had expected.

His food was lukewarm when he fetched it. It barely burned as the tray was balanced between his knees before the book, pages tucked around corners already. He began to eat. Cold food was nothing, he'd eaten garbage. He'd eaten worse than garbage, he'd eaten prison food.

Scourge feels an odd twist in his chest.

Maybe this was all simply indigestion.


	13. Shoddy Impulses

A hard whoosh reaches his ears. He tucks books away into a corner before the door opens, speed matching speed. He appears as if he's been sitting eating before the television as Sonic walks in. The food is eyed, then he is. A stench of smoke and flame wafts off him, coupled with sweat and ash. 

“Saw you in action, Blue.” He smiles.

“Need a shower.” 

The abruptness pulls Scourge from what he's doing, he rises to follow Sonic, food left behind. “Was it bad?”

“Normal stuff.” 

Handing him a washrag, he cocks an eyebrow. Sonic's tail looks burnt, his leg's being favored, he can't read for the life of him how hurt the blue blur actually is. “Need help bathing?”

One green eye meets his as Sonic turns his head. “Shower, be out real quick.”

The water runs, temptation rises as Scourge watches the male step in. Despite himself, he starts to strip. Sunglasses sat upon the sink and jacket hung up. The water's turned warm, steam rises up, wafting in welcome to him. An invitation. He drops the rest to the floor before opening the door. 

“Hey! Not enough room for us both in this s-” Sonic's snappy tone is cut off before he can say the world small, he's obviously not happy to share such a small shower, and that makes Scourge dropping to his knees between Sonic's legs even more confusing. He quirks an eyebrow. 

Scourge is too busy pressing his face between Sonic's legs, no longer breathing through his mouth, but instead taking deep, huffy inhales of his crotch. The cascade of warm water catches in his quills and pours off Sonic's body as his better half inhales, breath hitching. Sonic reaches for rag and soap right as Scourge parts his lips and suckles upon an orb, tongue trailing between the testicles. A whimper above, but no scolding, he laps hungrily at one, then the other. 

“What's gotten into yo- SCOURGE!”

His lips wrap around the tip of Sonic's dick, one gloveless hand grabs the base, the other cups his balls while a single finger walks its way along Sonic's taint. The green male can feel Sonic's legs quiver as he bobs his head and uses the actions he's dealing to distract Sonic. Wet fingers prodding his rear and rubbing the outside in circles. 

A hard buck plunges the full length down his throat. Through bleary eyes, he watches Sonic scrub himself, eyes barely open. He begins to buck, almost mindlessly, tip brushing the side of Scourge's cheek before slipping down his throat again. This time he doesn't cough. He focuses on relaxing, thinks of the werehog, and sucks. 

“O-ohhh. . .”

His own length is pulsing, neglected between his legs as he abandons balls and tail hole to hug Sonic's hips. The smell of sweat is still strong, as is the smell of fire, he breathes it in through his nose as his mouth gets fucked harder, faster. Harder. Faster. 

Arms where they are, Sonic can't keep grip of shampoo bottles, he grips one with both hands, eyes rolling into his head as he comes into Scourge's mouth. The male has the hindsight to not hold onto Sonic's hips like that, but by the time he pulls out, he's already filled Scourge's stomach and cannot climax all over his face like the green male wished to have happen. 

An audible 'pop' can be heard as Scourge swallows and tries to form words. 

He can't manage it, his own erection lays needy, dripping, his knees protest the painful shower floor. Sonic looks at him while rubbing shampoo through his quills. It's a curious look. 

One that is asking him if he's okay.

Scourge doesn't know.

He gives him a cocky smile, hiding the questions behind teeth and fangs bared as if he just won a war neither were fighting in. His shades not there, he can't lift them up as he eye waggles at the hero, it makes his efforts feel clumsy. Soap gets on his shoulders. Sonic's gaze has not drifted off him. He's still kneeling, head turned upward. He can taste Sonic so well. "Power to you, Blue."


End file.
